Gecko Gingrich:I still get milk (and eggs!) delivered. From a creamery mentioned in the article, natch.

I remember milk being delivered, and in glass containers. And (believe it or not) soy milk as well. I was allergic to cows milk when really young, and there would be a carton of it for me, along with the whole milk my dad favored.

/it might have said "artificial milk" or some such thing, but it was basically soy milk. This was in Norco, California in the late 60's/early 70's.

InterruptingQuirk:I got one paddling in 1st grade back in 1983. It was the last time I ever saw a paddle in school. Public.

/csb

I got a paddling in 8th grade, circa 1987. It only served to make a pissed off teenager even more pissed off and willing to irritate the teachers and principal. I was really good at toeing the line between 'pain in the ass' and 'kid that's done something we can suspend or expel him for'.

You can usually find Tab at Food Lion here in NC, in limited quantities. I have to go hunting for it once a week because my mother is an addict. Hate the stuff, personally.As for corporal punishment, my elementary school still used the paddle when I was there between '95-'98. As horrible a kid as I was, I miraculously managed to avoid it.

Big_Doofus:Neondistraction: InterruptingQuirk: I got one paddling in 1st grade back in 1983. It was the last time I ever saw a paddle in school. Public.

/csb

I got paddled once in 3rd grade, which would have been '88 or '89, for calling my teacher a motor-mouth. Not to her face, mind you, but to the kid sitting next to me. Little bastard snitched on me.

You were paddled for that?!?!?

Holy shiat

Mine was for throwing pencils at the second grader who had been left to watch over us first graders. To be fair he had started throwing pencils at a girl after she started making fun of his silly orange vest they gave him to identify him as a room monitor. All three of us got paddled. I was just derfrending a girl.

When I stayed for awhile in Fort Collins, CO, I was amazed to see milkmen making the rounds in the neighborhood. I had wondered why everyone seemed to have a wooden box on their porch. It was the milk box! None of those milkmen were anything at all like Reid Fleming...my hopes were dashed.

My elementary school (Catholic...) sent out letters at the start of every year explicitly asking parents "If your little crotchspawn misbehaves, do we have your permission to use corporal punishment?" I know it kept going through the 2000-01 school year.

Telegram-ish service to remote areas waaay past the last internet cafe sounds like a doable thing. At least where they have something resembling a postal courier. Transmit via internet to a duplex printer at regional post office, feed into an automated folder. Message on one side, delivery details on the other. That could cut message time to rural India or Kenya from a week or more to less than a day.

I leave that idea free for use by any postal service that would like to do it. Heck, accept scanned images and pictures. Accept letters to scan and email.

Just curious... do you drink it for the chemical aftertaste or for the cancer?

For the chemical taste. Started drinking it as a kid when my mom would buy it for herself. Loved the bitterness. It is the only soda that still uses saccharine, so it is the only one with the aftertaste everyone hates.

I got paddled in the 7th grade when I was caught day dreaming during a question posed to the class about the difference between animation and automation regarding the industrial revolution. I said the difference was one was a cartoon and the other was used during making things.

Snarfangel:/it might have said "artificial milk" or some such thing, but it was basically soy milk. This was in Norco, California in the late 60's/early 70's.

Probably the time and place; my parents were able to get soy-based formula when I was a kid in the 1970s, as they were concerned about potential food allergies (my father is seriously allergic to wheat, among many other things; I got off luck and have no food allergies). But I grew up in the Hippie part of West Philadelphia and so stuff like that was pretty common.

/still farking hate the taste of careb//no, it's NOT a chocolate substitute!

Real telegrams died a long time ago. I was at a wedding in 1984 and somebody who couldn't be there sent a telegram congratulating the happy couple. No paper was delivered. Somebody from the telegram office phoned up and read it to them.

Big_Doofus:Neondistraction: InterruptingQuirk: I got one paddling in 1st grade back in 1983. It was the last time I ever saw a paddle in school. Public.

/csb

I got paddled once in 3rd grade, which would have been '88 or '89, for calling my teacher a motor-mouth. Not to her face, mind you, but to the kid sitting next to me. Little bastard snitched on me.

You were paddled for that?!?!?

Holy shiat

Yep. It wasn't even a case of the straw that broke the camel's back. I wasn't the most well behaved kid in the class, but I was far from a clown or a troublemaker.

Now that I think about it, that teacher really had a she-boner for paddling. It had holes in it so you could swing it faster and black tape around the handle for a good grip. And when someone puts that much thought and care into it you know they're going to use it.

/ at least they had the decency to take you out in the hall to do it// everyone in the classroom could still hear it though/// which I'm pretty sure was the intended effect

bingethinker:Real telegrams died a long time ago. I was at a wedding in 1984 and somebody who couldn't be there sent a telegram congratulating the happy couple. No paper was delivered. Somebody from the telegram office phoned up and read it to them.

/sad trombone

I telegram.com is the company that bought out WesternUnion's service. They still offer hand delivery of telegrams as well as the phoned in version you mention. The one just costs more.

buckler:When I stayed for awhile in Fort Collins, CO, I was amazed to see milkmen making the rounds in the neighborhood. I had wondered why everyone seemed to have a wooden box on their porch. It was the milk box! None of those milkmen were anything at all like Reid Fleming...my hopes were dashed.

A Reid Fleming reference! I'd ask you to be my friend ... except for the fact that, as Reid Fleming fans, we both realize that friends are for pussies.

/Except for Captain Coffee, that guy's cool//78 cents, or I piss on your flowers!